


Highway Don't Care

by jacesmangoes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-29
Updated: 2013-08-29
Packaged: 2017-12-25 01:30:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacesmangoes/pseuds/jacesmangoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first, he’s angry. All Dean can think is how stubborn Cas is, how clumsy he is, how if he had just taken a moment to think then the porcelain angel wouldn’t be lying on the ground, shattered, fragments scattered about. His last possession of Mary’s.</p><p>Dean slams his fist into the wall. It hurts, but nothing breaks. Breaking stuff is Cas’s thing, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Highway Don't Care

**Author's Note:**

> Listen to this song while you're reading it; it's what inspired not only the title but the plot of the fic. Plus it's an excellent song!
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xyc2x9mxs2g

Rain pounds against the roof of the Impala as Castiel speeds down the highway. He doesn’t know where he’s going or which way he came from, but frankly, he doesn’t care.

***

At first, he’s angry. All Dean can think is how stubborn Cas is, how clumsy he is, how if he had just taken a moment to think then the porcelain angel wouldn’t be lying on the ground, shattered, fragments scattered about. His last possession of Mary’s.

Damnit, Cas.

The damn fallen angel was always thinking for himself; heaven this, heaven that, all that damn seraph bullshit that he never bothered to explain to Dean because of course no one should dare ask Cas to share his own personal business. 

Dean slams his fist into the wall. It hurts, but nothing breaks. Breaking stuff is Cas’s thing, after all.

***

There are tear stains on the leather seats and Dean is going to kill him. This makes Cas cry even harder because he can never do anything right. All he does is break and burn and destroy and he can’t ever be good enough for Dean for the life of him. The tires squeal as Castiel makes a last minute corner, his sight blurring from the rain and the speed.

***

Anger fades fast and turns to clarity. With the help of a beer and two shots of whiskey, at least. It wasn’t the angels fault that he dropped the ornament. Of course it wasn’t. Dean had overreacted and he knew it. An apology was in order. Picking up his phone and punching in Cas’s number, Dean waits.

***

The phone buzzes, but Cas pays it no attention. Probably Dean calling to yell at him some more. He doesn’t need to hear what he’s done wrong. Castiel knows he’s failed. Making another sharp right, he turns the corner. The vehicle spins slightly out of control, but he reigns it in. No big deal. A little water never hurt anyone.

***

It’s on the third call that Dean starts to worry. 

Cas, where are you?

Thunder cracks outside, followed by a swift burst of lightning. Dean thinks he sees a flicker of orange in the distance, but he can’t be sure. Forest fires are rare around here, but there’s always the possibility. 

Things burn in Lawrence, he’s learned. Wood and trees and homes and families. He doesn’t want this to burn, though. He’s tired of losing things to fire. He dials Cas’s number one more time, and he waits.

***

Castiel doesn’t see the lights. He’s too busy reaching for the phone. This is the fourth time Dean has called him, and he just can’t take it anymore. He just wants to turn the damn thing off and suffer in silence. 

He misses the change in colour from yellow to red that tells him to stop. One hand on his phone one foot pressed hard against the gas pedal, Cas allows the Impala to surge forward into the intersection, straight into the path of an oncoming semi.

***

Dean misses the anger. He wants to go back to being mad at Cas because it’s a lot easier to manage than the fear he feels right now. He can take his anger out on the couch or on the wall or on himself, he can release it and let it out. But the fear stays bottled up inside of him. Dean stands up and paces. He wants to scream, and he wants to cry, but none of those things will do any good.

***

Castiel feels nothing. No pain. No sadness. No anger. No fear. Nothing. And he almost smiles.

***

It’s been hours since Cas left, and Dean doesn’t know how much longer he can take. He turns on the television to distract himself until Cas calls him back. Until he can hear that low voice telling him that he didn’t mean to mess things up again. 

He nearly drops the phone when he sees the news. 

There’s fire and flashing lights and people gasping and crying and it’s a picture painted full of all of the things Dean hates. And right in the middle of it is his baby. The entire right side is smashed inwards, bent nearly beyond salvaging. The windshield is shattered and the front seat torn apart and it’s covered in broken glass and--

And blood. There’s blood on the seat. But the car is empty. 

Dean feels sick. He wants to throw up. He wants to punch something. He wants to curl up on the floor and cry himself to sleep. Because his car is empty and he sees Cas’s phone on the seat, screen cracked, concealing all the frantic messages he left in the last two hours.

The first hot tears spill onto his cheeks, and Dean grabs his hair because he needs something to hold onto. A broken sob escapes his lips and he breaks. Dean lowers himself off the couch, feeling his breathing accelerate. He’s a mess already, heaving and crying and he’s pretty sure he’s screaming too but he’s not positive. 

There’s a knock at the door, but Dean can’t bring himself to answer it. He just sobs louder, not caring who hears him.

The door opens and there are footsteps and suddenly there are arms around him.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I break everything. I’m so sorry.”

Frozen in disbelief, Dean swallows hard and whispers.

“Cas?”

“I’ll fix it, Dean, I promise. I’m so sorry, I--”

But he doesn’t get to finish his sentence because Dean is kissing him so hard that it hurts. Hands in his hair clamp down and threaten to never let go. Castiel isn’t sure what to do in this situation because sure he'd imagined it several times but now that it’s actually happening he’s lost. Lost in Dean’s lips and his hands and his smell and his taste, like salt and something bitter, probably alcohol.

Dean pulls away before Cas can really comprehend what just happened, and he looks away embarrassed.

“Shit. Cas, I…”

“It’s fine,” the angel replies, smoothing his hair back into place, feeling everywhere Dean’s fingers had been moments before. There’s still blood and bruises all over his face, but he disregards them for the moment.

“No chick flick moments, I recall you saying.”

Dean’s somber expression wavers just enough to show his toothy grin.

“Right, Cas. Just…” he laughs suddenly, the hysteria of the entire situation fading and reality setting back in. He looks back into Cas’s blue eyes and damn he didn’t know what he’d do if he ever lost him. 

The thunder outside has stopped, a single flash of lighting igniting the sky in the distance. It’s still raining, but reduced to a mere shower.

“Just don’t run away again,” he says, letting out a shaky breath, “okay?”

Cas nods.

“Okay.”


End file.
